


Lament

by AyaJoestar



Category: Bloodborne (Video Game)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst and Tragedy, Doomed Relationship, Drama & Romance, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Love, Psychological Trauma, Romance, Star-crossed, Tragedy, Tragic Romance, Trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-01
Updated: 2021-02-01
Packaged: 2021-03-12 20:15:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29141358
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AyaJoestar/pseuds/AyaJoestar
Summary: Esther is a Huntress seeking serenity in the Night of the Hunt after witnessing something horrible in the ruins of Old Yharman. What does the Night has in store for the young Huntress who seeks nothing but a loving embrace?
Relationships: Alfred/The Hunter (Bloodborne)
Kudos: 6





	Lament

The Huntress walked alone under the pale moonlight. Her steps were disjointed and careless like those of a marionette. The city offered nothing but pain and despair and now the night hauled everything from her. She was helpless. Yharman was not hers; it only crushed and tormented her. The Huntress hoped all she saw was but a dream. Yet, Hunters like her were trapped in an endless nightmare, not even death could release them.

The city was a cruel mistress. She would not allow her protectors go and would gift them cruel images of their loved ones. The Huntress too had received that blessing. Her family was set ablaze, and her mentor was gone. She hope for his return, but she knew that the Wolf no longer howls. She could only remember his cold lifeless eyes looking at her.

What was she to do? The Huntress mind begged for rest from all this madness, but her body asked for revenge. Before this night, no other part of the city would bring her more comfort than Old Yharman. The Huntress was a wolf's cub. She liked to cuddle in his embrace like a child. The kind man who mentored her throughout the years no longer could give her the love she so despairingly wanted. He was gone. The woman felt sick, her hands were freezing inside her gloves but her body was sweating. Her steps were solely an attempt to remain on her feet. She could barely see anything yet the memories kept haunting. Why would someone slaughter the White Wolf? What kind of madness afflicted the one who decapitated him? The Huntress could not fathom it. She could only feel the shame of not being able to save all those she loved. What Hunter was she if she could help those who needed her? She cursed the Moon and the city, however, they cared not for the affairs of a cub.

All she could do was to flee the old city and seek whoever was responsible for her sorrow. The Huntress had a burning desire to cut off his head in the same way he had cut off the Wolf's, yet her body betrayed her. Her legs were shaking and emptiness inside her chest made moving such a chore. The Huntress wished it all ended soon but deep inside, she knew that was but the childish desire.

The young woman gathered some strength to walk, yet doing so was a long arduous process. She did not know where to go, no place in Yharman was safe. Either the Beasts or herself, the Huntress had no place to run, no place could offer her the calmness she needed. The clothes on her body made her skin itch, she needed to get rid of it all. The blade on her arm, the cap on her head. But all she could see were the eyes. His glaze-like eyes staring at her. There was nothing she could do to help them. The clothes she wore burned her; gifts from people she once knew now only hurt her. She could not touch the walls or the floor; it disgusted her. She fell unworthy of being alive even though it was but a stroke of luck. Her stomach twisted and turned. The Huntress knew she needed a place to rest alone. Somewhere, a safe haven that would offer the warmth of the past but nonetheless keep her aware of the true state of Yharman. An abandoned place, isolated and unseen. Maybe she knew one such place.

In the heart of the city stood the Cathedral, home of the Church that presided over the city. The outstanding ward that surrounded it was home to a small altar dedicated to one of the Church's factions. The Huntress did not have to walk very far, she only needed to climb up a few ladders and emerge from the ground. She knew that place from more joyous times.

The Huntress placed her focus on planning for her revenge. Climbing stairs was not so hard now that she had something to think about. She still felt great guilt for being alive, however, avenging her family would give her some peace of mind. Nevertheless the young woman did not realize the ghost she had unearthed. The altar she had chosen as her resting place in Yharman was made to the Executioners, a sect of warrior monks obsessed with destroying the aristocrats from Cainhurst Castle. She knew one of them, and he would not fail to express his devotion. The Huntress was foolish to think that the altar would be empty.

"Alfred..." She whispered upon seeing the blonde man kneeling in prayer in front of the altar.

She knew that man better than she cared to admit. The Huntress had grown to despise him, but the mere sight of him made her heart beat faster. She loathed him, however, she could not shake away the feelings she had for the Executioner. It was beyond her control; her body would crack in deep in anxiety. Of all of the people in, why Alfred? Her sweat was cold and her eyes refused to focus on anything but the golden-haired man. His smile, his tender voice... Everything about him made her warm to her very own core. Breathing became harder; her fast breath made her dizzy. This is not what she desired, but the city was cruel... It was not a dream, as she so hoped; before she could react she was there... Smiling at her.

"Esther, you look so pale." The man observed looking into the eyes of the Huntress "Have you forgotten to take Blood?"

Hunters like Esther used the Blood of the Old Gods as an aid in the long tiresome nights of the Hunt. Taking it has healed them yet deprived of their humanity. Like all Hunters, she could not resist its sickly smell. The Huntress had not forgotten, however, the Blood could not erase what she had seen. She would not speak or look at Alfred. Her silence was telling. The young woman would never fail to answer back to him regardless if it was out of love or hate. He wished he could comfort her somehow. Alfred reached out to Esther. She wished she possessed the strength to drive him away, but her tries were met with a loving embrace. He had not changed.

"It was not the Blood." The Huntress finally spoke in a faint frail voice.

Esther's mouth betrayed her too. He had risen from Hell but still, her mouth could only confess the truth. She was foolish, after all, she was but a Wolf's cub.

"I cannot imagine what happened to you, but please allow me help you."

Alfred's request was sincere. There was love in those turquoise eyes, true affection for that broken little girl. After all that happened between them, even after he left Esther alone, he still cared for her. The bastard knew all of her weaknesses and exploited them against her. The Huntress detested him for it.

"You abandoned me, Alfred." Esther spoke directly, wanting to get it done and over with it " You abandoned me for your Master." "Are you mad?" The Executioner asked with no anger in his voice "You are so fragile, I cannot leave you to be hunted by Beasts. You need me."

Esther was nothing more than a girl seeking the approval of others in a foreign land. Alfred knew it and loved her more than anyone else ever would. He hailed her the highest, call her a Saint, and Esther would be bewitched by him. Nevertheless, it was mutual. He was always quick to express how he thought that Esther was unworthy of the Hunt, but worthy of the best has to offer. An exotic noblewoman seduced by a Hunter. She enjoyed those fantasies after all Esther ever wanted was a life with him. Before Old Yharman fell, the young Huntress could hide behind her mentor's cape were she was safe from Alfred's gaze. The White Wolf was quick to remind her of all the terrible things Alfred had done, but now there was nothing between them. She could not conceal her face from his crystal eyes.

"Esther." He called. "I still care for you." "You always lie. You promised me we would be together and look at me! Your promises never came true, I am even now a Hunter." "I would never lie to you." The man talked to Esther like one would speak to a sad child

Alfred knew her so well... He knew when to stop Esther from hiding behind the past, behind the ashen cape. Despite everything, he was never angry or judged her for hiding. He had abandoned her to become a member of a fanatical cult of vampire killers while she was left alone in a city that hated her. Still, she was very precious to him, and he wanted to patch up her new wound.

"Tonight is the worse Hunt we have ever faced." The Executioner declared sweetly."But I still want your smile."

The blonde man touched the Huntress' cheek. The rough glove of his gauntlets caressed her skin allowing her to feel how much he cherished her still. It was so close to the home she never had... Esther lowered her defences and looked into those blue eyes losing herself between the dull grey robes. The blackness of her clothes disappeared with all the warmth she felt. Alfred was the only one who loved her without holding back. Regardless of his position in Yharman's social circle, he was the only one who could make her smile. In a moment, Alfred held Esther's hand and took her to the small platform where the altar stood and embraced her by the waist, close to him.

The young woman had not a clue of his plans, however, she could not deny how infatuated she still was with that man. Where would he go, she would follow. Esther could never bury her love. And so, she danced like the future was bright. She smiled and even laughed like the night was nothing more than a bad dream even though both of them knew the city would punishment for trying to be happy among all the bloodshed. In Alfred's eyes, Esther was herself once more. A terrific young woman fervent with hope in the future. He would never understand how could she be so hopeful, perhaps it was him who gave the young Huntress such hope. But it no longer mattered. He knew this was the last gesture of love he could share with Esther. A beautiful moment both hoped it would last forever. Like snakes, the Executioner's arms held the Huntress not wanting to let go of her. The blonde man was used to repress his desires from everyone, but no more. His dear Esther was close to him once more and soon the night would take her away from him. He was happy to say goodbye. Alfred held her so close he could hear her breathing. Esther was drowning in him but no longer did she fought that. She knew what she had to do. She had to hunt those who hunted her loved ones before the sunrise. Once it was over she could listen to Alfred's lies forever. Oh, did she hate him, but did it matter anymore?


End file.
